I measured parts of my body that I literally did not even know existed. (The armscye, by the way, is the tissue between the armpit and the chest.)
I told them the absolute truth. When they asked about the circumference of the largest part of my thigh, I told them. When they asked for my bra size, I told them. When they asked for a thousand, a million, a trillion different circumferences and lengths, I told them all.
Then I sent those measurements in.
I was horribly mortified. They were getting numbers, numbers that don't say anything about me. They didn't see a picture of me smiling all the way to my eyes. They didn't hear me laugh, or tell a joke. They don't know how I interact with people. They don't see "good with children, loves herself and others, has valid input." They saw "48 inches around bust." That doesn't say anything about me, just about the body my heart and my mind and my soul are wearing.
Then my mother said "You're pretty. I see you thinking bad thoughts about yourself, and I want you to know you don't look the way your mind sees things." And I realized, maybe I was the one who was just looking at the numbers. The people who were asking for my measurements had already seen my resume and videos of me singing. They chose me, decided I was worth hiring. I was the only one counting myself out based on my size.
Ladies and Gentlemen, you are your own worst critic. You have amazing abilities, talents, beauty, and personality. Everyone sees the good. Nobody purposely picks out just the bad to look at. So take a moment to reflect, and to realize your true worth, based on the good that is inside you. There may be more than you think.
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